


Life in Plastic

by jayofmo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU (Comics), Plastic Man (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7202225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayofmo/pseuds/jayofmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plastic Man introduced via Arrow. 'Nuff said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life in Plastic

"It escaped? How?"  
  
The security guard hurriedly parked on the side of the street as he watched the flesh-colored blob wiggle across the street.  
  
"I don't get paid enough for this," he sighed as he got out of the car.  
  
"I think I might be able to help," said a voice as the figure known as the Green Arrow stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"GWEEN ARROW!" the guard gasped.  
  
"Just mind telling me what that thing is?"  
  
"That thing... was Eel O'Brien," the security guard said. "I caught him robbin' the chemical plant I work for. I happened to take a shot, it hit him... and a vat of some stuff. It got onto him and next thing I know, he's melting into some kinda goo."  
  
"You're telling me the slipperiest thief in Star City is now a living pile of silly putty?"  
  
"Well, I guess. I decided to pick what was left of him up, take it to the police station when it suddenly came to and jumped out the window."  
  
The Green Arrow nodded and the two hurried after the blob. It was moving at a good pace to a church across the street. As they kept their eyes on it, it began to form into the shape of a man. Not fully formed, however. It had no toes or genitals, and the texture was a little too smooth.  
  
 _Weird_ , the Green Arrow thought.  
  
The man banged on the door of the church. "Help!" he cried. An old man dressed in a robe answered as the Green Arrow and the guard made their way to the church.  
  
"Come in, my son," the old man said. He helped the man in, and left the door open.  
  
"I... I don't know... what happened to me..." the man moaned. He looked down at himself as the security guard and the Green Arrow walked in.  
  
The old man, seemingly a priest, put a blanket over Eel's shoulders. The security guard stepped forward, but the Green Arrow held him back.  
  
"What do you remember?" the priest asked.  
  
"I was pulling a job," Eel sighed. "It was gonna be my last one, I swore to myself this time, but... I got hit. Then something splashed on me. Thought I was a goner."  
  
The priest nodded. "Then keep that promise to yourself," he said. "You got a second chance, my boy, to become the best man that you can."  
  
He looked to the Green Arrow and the guard. "I'm going to get him some clothes and a drink. You can make your arrest then."  
  
The two nodded and stepped forward.  
  
"Gee-whiz," whispered the guard. "He looks like he's made of plastic."  
  
"I don't just look it," Eel sighed. He turned himself into a perfect copy of the Green Arrow. "I am. Whatever that stuff was... it changed me. I'm... something else now." He reverted to his previous form.  
  
The Green Arrow looked at the guard. "You realize it'd be hard keeping him in prison, right?"  
  
"Impossible," the guard replied. "He could slip outta there like nothing."  
  
The Green Arrow put his arm on Eel's shoulder. "You want your second chance? Listen to me. Make it so Eel O'Brien died tonight. But a new hero was born. You can use your new power and your knowledge to fight the type of crime you used to commit."  
  
"I got nowhere to go, though," Eel sighed.  
  
"Well... I got a little place," the security guard said. "Not much, but you're welcome to it. 'Sides, I can keep an eye on you there."  
  
Eel looked up. "I... I guess..."  
  
The priest returned with a nondescript suit of clothes. Eel dressed himself and the three men left.  
  
"By the way, who are you?" Eel asked as he got in the guard's car.  
  
"Well, my name's Wolfgang Winks," was the reply. "But you can call me Woozy. What do we call you, though?"  
  
Eel looked down at himself.  
  
"Plastic Man," he said.  
  
The Green Arrow waited outside as they drove off. "I hope I don't regret letting him go."  
  
\---  
  
Dressed in a bright red suit and white goggles with black lenses, Plastic Man tucked himself away in the gym's supply room. He put his hand to his ear, activating his headset.  
  
"Geez, what kinda creep uses a high school basketball game as a cover for a drug deal?"  
  
"Someone working at the school," Oliver Queen—also known as the Green Arrow—replied back. "Just make sure you're not caught."  
  
"Sure thing... Hold on, I'm gonna get to a spot where I can get a better view."  
  
"Let me know if you spot anything, I'm right outside."  
  
"Will do."  
  
Plastic Man was eyeing the rack of basketballs. It wasn't full, but he figured he could have a good view of the room from the rack. Red wasn't a normal color for a basketball, but with some careful control of his shape, Plas squeezed himself into a basketball, peeking out of one of the lines that ran across it. Unless someone gave him a very close inspection, they'd think nothing of it.  
  
In a few moments, the coach and the players walked in, and a big pep talk followed. Plas paid little attention as this was expected.  
  
"Okay, let's get the ball," the coach said. He turned to the rack and immediately reached for Plas.  
  
 _Drat! No!_ Plas thought as the coach pulled him off the rack and began squeezing him.  
  
"This one feels just right!" the coach grinned. He tossed Plas into the air and caught him. "Right weight, too."  
  
If it wouldn't have broken his cover, Plas would have resumed his normal form and slapped himself in the face. His imitation had been too spot on.  
  
"Okay, let's play!" the coach said. In minutes, the team was out on the court, as was Plas. He was being tossed from hand to hand and thrown to the floor of the gym. He wasn't in pain as he simply hadn't felt any since the fateful night he'd been shot and given his powers, but trying to concentrate was impossible. Also, he couldn't activate his headset as he couldn't break his cover.  
  
Someone threw him through a hoop, he didn't know which team, and immediately, he was caught and being dribbled across the gym's waxed floor once again, being thrown and handled by goodness knows who.  
  
"Slam dunk!" someone yelled, and someone holding him jumped up and neatly hurled him through a hoop. He hit the ground, hard. The force of the throw was too much, and he flattened against the floor.  
  
"What the heck happened?" asked the coach as he hurried to the "ball." Plas was peeled off the floor and looked over. "Thought it was better made than that. We got more in the supply room, I'll be right back."  
  
"No need," said another voice. "We can pump it up right here."  
  
Plas deduced this was the coach from the other team. Wait, did he say "pump?"  
  
A needle was jabbed into Plas and air was suddenly being forced into him, creating a pocket inside of him.  
  
"Make sure it's nice and firm," the home coach said.  
  
Plas knew his cover would be blown. He wasn't a basketball, he was Plastic Man, he'd keep inflating a balloon.  
  
"Plas?" came Oliver's voice on the headset. "Any updates?"  
  
Plas tried to think. _Why are they holding up the game like this?_ he thought. _That's it! The deal's going on in the supply room RIGHT NOW! That's why the other coach didn't want anyone going in there!_  
  
"Check the supply room now!" Plas groaned, activating his headset.  
  
"You hear something?" the visiting coach said. He gave Plas a big pump of air.  
  
 _Nothing for it now_ , Plas thought, and poked his head out of his ball form. "You know, it's not very polite to be shoving such things into strangers," he said.  
  
"YIKES!" gasped the other coach and dropped the pump and him.  
  
"OW!" called Plas, resuming his human form. He shifted his body around so it looked as if the pump was attached to his backside. "Yeah, really not cool, dude!" he chuckled, pulling the pump off of him.  
  
"What the heck?" gasped the home coach. The two teams stepped back.  
  
"Yeah, hey, you all have been playing a good game, but it's time for this ball to bounce."  
  
There was a clatter from the supply room and the Green Arrow stepped out with the visiting coach's assistant and the home school's janitor cuffed up.  
  
"Oh, you aren't getting me!" the visiting coach cried and made a dash for the door.  
  
"Not so fast!" called Plas, stretching his arm out and wrapping it around the coach, dragging him back. "We caught wind of a drug deal going on, so we decided to investigate, lo and behold, you gave yourself away."  
  
The visiting coached scowled. "I'm not saying a word! I know my rights!"  
  
"Yeah, the police are waiting outside," Oliver said. "Plas, let's go."  
  
Plastic Man saluted the teams and the crowd. "Just your friendly neighborhood Plastic Man, on duty!"  
  
\---  
  
"Well, despite that mishap, I think that went pretty well," Plastic Man commented to Oliver. They were on their way back to the Arrowcave, with Plas having shrunk and contorted himself into an arrow in Oliver's quiver. Oliver and Plas had a mutual understanding: Plastic Man knew the Green Arrow's true identity and could use some resources in the Arrowcave, and Oliver knew his secret criminal past and didn't betray it.  
  
"Do you have to ride in there?" Oliver asked. "It's... kinda weird, you know?"  
  
"Not like I asked to be this weird," Plas sighed.  
  
"Hold it," Ollie said. He looked down to see a group of a half dozen thugs crowded around a woman, clutching her purse, tears streaking her face.  
  
Without a word, Ollie reached to his quiver, grabbed an arrow, fit it to his bow, and fired.  
  
"YAAAAAAHHHH!" yelled Plas as he sped towards the thugs, then he realized he could put the momentum to good use and expanded to a large size, knocking over all of the men.  
  
The woman looked up at Plas.  
  
"Th... thank you..." she whispered.  
  
Plas nodded. "Better hurry along, ma'am."  
  
She nodded and hurried off as the men began to scramble up. By this time, Ollie was rappelling down to the street. A fight broke out, but Plas and Ollie had the upper hand, as they hadn't been surprised by someone leaping onto them. Also, Plas was able to enlarge his fists, causing more damage. Ollie used his bow and soon, the six men were down on the ground unconscious, Ollie calling the police.  
  
"Mind giving me a heads up next time?" Plas asked, panting.  
  
"I figured you could handle it," grinned Ollie.  
  
"Guess we better keep an eye on them until the cops show up." Plastic Man turned his body from the shoulders down into a chair and offered Oliver a seat. Oliver shrugged and accepted.  
  
Suddenly, a muffled version of "Bend Me, Shape Me" by The American Breed was heard, and Plas reached into himself and pulled out a slim smartphone.  
  
"Hey, Woozy, just out on patrol with the Green Arrow... Good stuff... See you in a few... Bye."  
  
He reached back into himself, the phone vanishing.  
  
"Do I want to know where you keep that?" Oliver asked.  
  
"Nope."


End file.
